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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510629">The Lovelorn Monster</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaire_Seton/pseuds/Blaire_Seton'>Blaire_Seton</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern Witchers (The Witcher), Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst with a Happy Ending, Betaed, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Christmas Decorations, Christmas Tree, Drama &amp; Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, First Kiss, Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, Gallows Humor, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Miscommunication, Monsters, Mutual Pining, Post-Break Up, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Post-Season/Series 01, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Rusalka (Water Spirit), The Witcher Lore, Wyverns</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 19:08:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,816</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28510629</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaire_Seton/pseuds/Blaire_Seton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been many months since the mountain incident. Jaskier is alone on Christmas day. His lovely, old house has somehow become a monster-infested hellhole. Now it seems there might be a way to kill two birds with one stone. Only deciding what actually needs killing is much more complicated than that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>307</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Lovelorn Monster</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/gifts">LovelyRita1967</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/pseuds/LovelyRita1967">LovelyRita1967</a> wrote a beautiful fanfic for my birthday which you can read <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27978882">here</a>. It has developed into a whole series since. I cannot recommend it enough ❤️</p><p>I was excited to return the favour, and asked her for a list of wants and needs. So here's my first Modern AU Geraskier (kind of) Romcom. I added some gore, extra angst, dramatic fights, and monsters to make it my own. </p><p>In the meantime, Kelly asked me for a Christmas fic that is actually light and fun. Well, at least it's set on Christmas day. </p><p>It's been ages since Rita's birthday but there's no time-limit on my best wishes for her! She is an incredible friend, a constant source of support, reassurance and inspiration. I love you so much, Rita! Every day, you make my life better. I'm so grateful ❤️❤️❤️</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>When I am laid, am laid in earth, May my wrongs create</em>
  <br/>
  <em>No trouble, no trouble in thy breast;</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Remember me, remember me, but ah! forget my fate.</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Remember me, but ah! forget my fate.</em>
</p><p><em>Dido’s Lament</em>, Henry Purcell, adapted from <em>The Aeneid</em></p><p> </p><p>Jaskier stared at his beautiful, tall, richly dressed Christmas tree with pride and a wistful smile. Each ornament was a souvenir or a gift. This tradition gave his decorations deep meaning, but also made him reluctant to come anywhere near the tree this year.</p><p>Memories. He had a cardboard box full of them. There was a delicately carved wooden heart covered in rich, red paint he received from Countess de Stael. Then his favourite - a perfect, tiny copy of his lute he had ordered to celebrate his first successful performance for the royals. He even had a little doll that a sibele, a demon who steals children, was using to lure a baby when Geralt cut off her head.</p><p>Geralt never approved of Jaskier keeping the toy, let alone using it as an ornament. ‘I don’t need keepsakes to remind me of the last time I killed something,’ his gruff voice would say.</p><p><em>Well, this year it’s going up.</em> Jaskier picked a spot for the doll with a rebellious toss of his hair. It was quite a nasty, clumsily knitted thing. Seeing it on the tree succeeded mostly in creating an uncomfortable lump in his throat as he imagined Geralt sitting on his living room sofa, relaxed, with a snide smile, some acerbic remark already forming in his head.</p><p>Perhaps Geralt would ignore the doll. ‘You just love making yourself sentimental,’ he’d say instead, seemingly no connection, just a short, judgmental glance at the tree.</p><p>And Jaskier did, actually. No shame in that. It had its benefits. In his mind, Geralt could easily become just the memory of a perfect, lost friend, regardless of how he would feel about the prospect. He was the hero Jaskier once traveled with, no more, no less. They parted ways for perfectly rational reasons.</p><p>‘Just give me a couple of years,’ he said to the imaginary Geralt in his mind and smiled with pride. Being the storyteller meant being in control.</p><p>Then he noticed a little ornament shaped like a golden dragon lying at the bottom of the box. The sight made him freeze for a moment. He shook off the memory and ignored the draw towards his phone which has been intensifying over the last couple of days.</p><p>Everything was going fine. The phone was just playing music, lying perfectly innocently on the windowsill as it should. It was set on shuffle, and Annie Lennox’s “Dido's Lament” was on, a little bit ominous, but also somehow appropriate.</p><p>He hummed with the music while hanging up a few golden baubles. As he started to sing, another voice joined in, a distant echo of his hum, a gentle, female timbre following along quietly. It made him smile, eyes suddenly attracted to the window. It was already getting dark, and the Christmas lights he put up outside were reflecting in the glass. A weird glow by the evergreen shrubs made the snow underneath them shine delicately.</p><p>The decorations were nearly complete. There was a comforting smell of cinnamon and apples coming from the kitchen. Also, he still had some surprisingly successful homemade ginger biscuits left.</p><p>The golden dragon was the last thing he hung on the tree. He flinched a little as he did, but it was where it belonged. Then he moved away to admire his finished work. ‘Better late than never,’ he whispered to himself. </p><p>At that exact moment, the next song started to play. Jaskier instantly recognised it and stared at his phone as if it personally insulted him.</p><p>‘<em>It's been a blue holiday since you've been gone</em>,’ Aretha Franklin started to sing.</p><p>‘Oh, no you don’t,’ Jaskier whispered while walking<em> calmly</em> towards his phone.</p><p>‘<em>Oh darling, won't you hurry, hurry home</em>,’ she continued undisturbed.</p><p>He actually liked the song and was starting to wonder if he was overreacting.</p><p>‘<em>It's been a blue… a blue holiday. And I'm all alone</em>.’</p><p>No, he wasn’t.</p><p>‘<em>My dear I need your love to keep… to keep me warm</em>.’</p><p><em>Yeah, sure, like that was ever an option,</em> he thought to himself.</p><p>‘<em>I cry when I hear the chapel bells ring… And sometimes I cry all through the night</em>.’</p><p>Fuck. Jaskier’s fingerprint lock was a little wonky.</p><p>‘<em>Won't you please come home and make my… make my holiday bright</em>.’</p><p>Finally, he managed to skip a couple of songs, and quickly discovered he actually preferred some silence this time. He took a deep breath and decided it was time to focus on cooking. That should be comforting enough.</p><p>As soon as he turned towards the kitchen he heard a weird, buzzing sound, and then a high, disembodied laugh. Lights flickered. There was a loud crash, a cavalcade of many little objects falling all at once, baubles suddenly bouncing off his furniture. A glass ball he bought at a little Christmas market in Vizima rolled in between his feet.</p><p>He swore under his breath and turned back. All the ornaments were lying on his wooden floor, and only the Christmas lights remained. A small dark shape with sharp horns moved along the wall and then disappeared behind the sofa, still giggling to itself.</p><p>Jaskier stared at the naked tree, feeling a bit hopeless. Then he climbed up the sofa pillows and looked into the tight space between the wall and the backrest.</p><p>Two small, red eyes stared back.</p><p>‘Proud of yourself?’ he asked with irritation and heard only a quiet hiss in response. ‘You know what? Fuck you. Sincerely, fuck you.’ He pointed at the thing, his eyes narrowing. ‘No more biscuits for you. You’re going down,’ he threatened, a surprising and, by all accounts, disproportionate amount of uncurbed fury in his voice, hand shaking slightly.</p><p>For a moment Jaskier seemed overwhelmed. He took a couple of very deep breaths, then coughed a little and his eyes watered. ‘Right,’ he said to himself, his attempts to calm down obviously failing. He stretched his neck, then rolled his shoulders, releasing the tension with a sigh. ‘Right,’ he repeated as his expression switched to resolve.</p><p>He squeezed his phone with newly found determination, and then fiddled with it nervously for much longer than he originally planned.</p><p>Finally, he clicked on his least favourite icon of all - the phone app.</p><p>The signal was ringing loud in his ears. Time slowed down. He was just about to hang up when he heard a deep voice on the other side. ‘Yes?’</p><p>‘Vesemir,’ Jaskier announced, jovially. ‘Merry Christmas!’ He listened to Vesemir return the greeting and massaged his temples nervously. ‘Yes, thank you. Erm… I was just wondering… No, no, I am not going to hang up. Whatever gives you that idea?’ He laughed nervously. ‘I <em>do</em> need help. It’s a dreadful emergency. No… Of course, I would have called otherwise. Yes, it’s quiet because I’m at home. No, I have not been drinking. I am <em>most definitely</em> sober. Yes, yes, yes… No, I do realise… I actually do have a monster that needs to be… witchered? No, it’s not just one, actually… It’s- it’s a couple of things, really. I know it’s Christmas. Yes, I see your point. But… isn’t Geralt working anyway?’</p><p>He waited as the line went quiet for a while. ‘Yes, I did just ask for Geralt,’ he confirmed.</p><p>No response. Vesemir must have moved away from the phone, and there was a sound of distant chatter. When he returned his voice was hesitant. ‘You’re sure about this?’ he asked.</p><p>‘Yes, I definitely want Geralt here. As soon as possible would be grand,’ Jaskier confirmed again, surprised at how confident he sounded.</p><p>‘Fine,’ Vesemir said finally, before hanging up right away, voice a bit more irritated than the situation justified.</p><p>Jaskier put the phone away and tried to force himself to breathe again.</p><p>***</p><p>It was just starting to snow when Geralt found himself in front of Jaskier’s door. The house was as extravagant, over-decorated, and unreasonably large as ever, but no Christmas wreath this year. <em>Weird, </em>he thought.</p><p>Last year’s one was a bit excessive, as he felt compelled to point out. Yet, it was also tasteful, somehow both traditional - holly leaves with red berries - and experimental, or rebellious, even - dressed up with peacock feathers and opened at the top.</p><p>‘The sharp leaves stand in for suffering, the berries for blood. This thing glorifies pain,’ Jaskier explained with indignation when Geralt asked him why he modified the design.</p><p>‘It’s a Christian symbol, what do you expect?’</p><p>‘That’s why I’ve selected peacock feathers to counterbalance that bullshit with some joy… and, you know, to throw in some good things Christians don’t appreciate, like vanity and pride.’</p><p>Geralt failed to suppress a smile both then, and now when remembering the moment.</p><p>‘Opening the circle changes it from the symbol of eternity to impermanence,’ Jaskier announced with determination worthy of a better cause. ‘Because nothing lasts forever. And that’s precisely why it’s so important to enjoy things while we can.’</p><p>The memory lingered in Geralt’s head as he stared at the bare door in front of him.</p><p>He hesitated ever so slightly before pressing the doorbell. It felt bizarre to be back. Everything was so familiar and yet, there was an odd, distant feeling pulling at his guts as he looked around. He shook it off, annoyed with himself for going soft all of a sudden. Then he tried the bell again, somehow more worried than cross at the silence. </p><p>Finally, there was a sound of feet shuffling towards the door, and then a turn of the lock.</p><p>‘Jaskier, you look… horrible,’ Geralt heard himself say before he managed to reconsider. There was no usual Jaskier glow anywhere to be found, not that he would admit ever noticing it in the first place.</p><p>Jaskier’s face was unshaven, hair in disarray. What he was wearing would normally not even qualify as clothing appropriate for lounging at home. His jumper had certainly seen better days, approximately a decade ago.</p><p>‘Thanks, Geralt. Always so courteous. Do you want to insult me again or are you fine to come in?’</p><p>It took a moment for Geralt to realise that he actually had to say something before he was allowed to enter.</p><p>Jaskier stood in the door, his face frozen in the best possible impression of indifference.</p><p>‘Can I?’ Geralt tilted his head a bit as he asked, just a tinge of impatience in his voice which was enough to cause Jaskier’s face to twitch a bit.</p><p>‘Sure,’ he snapped, moved away, and then just walked down the corridor without turning back.</p><p>Geralt shook his head, grabbed the keys from a little basket by the hangers, and closed the second lock. He readjusted the wonky handle, a habit he barely remembered, yet couldn’t fight.</p><p>After he took off his winter jacket and managed to find some semblance of space to hang it, his hand dug in between Jaskier’s fancy coats in search of the light switch. Why the fuck did Jaskier hide it like this, he’d never understand. It wasn’t intentional but, as he pushed in, his face got buried in Jaskier’s clothes. They smelled like him. <em>What else would they smell of</em>? he thought to himself with unexpected anger.</p><p>He felt betrayed by his sneaky mind, which instantly took a wild race through moments he’d been trying hard not to remember over the last year. The worst one was, of course, the last, when Jaskier not only smelled like himself but also of salty tears, with a distinct, bitter note of fear. While most people were scared to be around Geralt, Jaskier was scared he might not have Geralt near him ever again. If disappointment and sadness had a smell, they would have taken their place in the mix too. Geralt was glad heartbreak didn’t come with a fragrance. </p><p>‘You coming?’ Jaskier called out impatiently from the living room.</p><p>As Geralt walked through the corridor, he slowed down when he passed the dark kitchen, door open wide. There was an unsettling glow radiating through the window. ‘Jaskier?’</p><p>‘Just come through here, please.’ </p><p>Geralt’s eyes adjusted to the bright light in the living room. He had to take extra care not to step on Jaskier’s precious ornaments. Apart from the ruined tree, there were also empty plates with some biscuit crumbs, empty mugs scattered in various, mostly inappropriate, places, including the top of a bookshelf, and plenty of open books, spines broken, a stain on a coffee table, a broken golden bauble, and a half empty bottle of white wine sticking out from underneath the sofa, the cork precariously lodged in the neck.</p><p>Geralt spotted the sibele’s little doll and smiled to himself. ‘That’s your emergency? What you need is a cleaner,’ he rumbled with no conviction.</p><p>‘If you’re not going to treat me seriously, you might as well leave.’ Jaskier’s voice was sharp.</p><p>Geralt was surprised by the effect that had on him. It felt a bit like a slap, not a tone of voice he’d ever heard from him before. Jaskier was not in the mood for any of Geralt’s teasing. Perhaps that was normal now. For a split second, he bought Jaskier’s performance and felt an uncomfortable, tight pressure building in his chest.</p><p>‘Ehm…’ Jaskier hesitated, suddenly seeming a bit embarrassed. ‘T-this is nothing,’ he waved his hand around indicating the disarray in the room. ‘The main problems are-’</p><p>‘In the kitchen.’</p><p>‘Yeah, mostly,’ he admitted with a slight wince. ‘I just wanted to make a bit of a preamble here.’</p><p>‘Sure…’ Geralt had never had a client who made preambles at a time of a crisis but he was happy to indulge Jaskier a bit.</p><p>‘So, first of all. I have <em>not</em> had sex with her so you don’t have to freak out.’</p><p>‘What?’</p><p>‘I’ve read up on her a little. And - I am happy to inform you - I have been rational about it. She is <em>gorgeous</em> but I’ve kept her outside.’</p><p>Geralt was puzzled but then, slowly, things began to line up in his head. ‘You have a rusalka?’</p><p>‘Yes,’ Jaskier confirmed with relief. <em>Geralt just gets it, thanks the gods.</em> ‘Or so I think,’ he added with a frown. ‘Do you remember my plan to buy myself a pool?’</p><p>‘Of course. A bloated monstrosity. A total waste of money.’</p><p>‘Yeah, that one,’ Jaskier nodded emphatically. ‘I decided to go for it after-’ He was far from interested in finishing that sentence, so he bravely ploughed ahead. ‘Either way, in the spring she emerged from the water, naked and kind of… glow-y. At first she would mostly just comb her shiny, gold hair while… looking at me.’</p><p>He paused and scratched the back of his neck, eyes wondering. ‘And then she started to sing in this deep, low voice, usually in the evenings.’ He looked at Geralt with some uneasiness, then instantly turned upbeat. ‘<em>Amazing</em> range, by the way, because she can also go <em>very</em> high if she wants to. Really impressive. And somehow - that’s the bit I don’t quite understand - there is also… this sound of drums and pipes sometimes?’</p><p>‘She’s been here since the spring?’</p><p>‘Well, yeah… But it was nothing to worry about, as I said. She would just sing and dance a bit… in the garden, in front of my gorgeous French doors, the rhododendrons in full bloom behind her. I would sit by my kitchen island and look. It was quite pleasant, really…. Beautiful, even, I-I didn’t mind it much.’</p><p>‘She would dance…’ Geralt repeated mindlessly while warily recalling the sight of all the dead bodies he recovered from lakes near places where rusalkas would happily sway and twirl in the moonlight.</p><p>‘Yes, although… sometimes she would also walk all the way to the door and press her face into the glass with this loud, squeaky sound, a bit unsettling.’ He threw a nervous look towards Geralt and rubbed his fingers against each other, turning slightly fidgety. ‘And then sometimes, not that often mind you, she would pull on the handle and scream.’</p><p>‘Right.’</p><p>‘And it got a bit awkward. I had to keep explaining why I’m not organising pool parties anymore, or garden parties… or-or any parties, really.’</p><p>‘Mhm.’ Geralt nodded with a frown. ‘And now?’</p><p>‘Now… Well, now she seems a bit more determined to get in. But it’s freezing so… who would blame her, right?’ He chuckled nervously. ‘D-do rusalkas get cold? It’s like permanent fog and wet snow out there. Always cloudy.’</p><p>‘No, Jaskier, it’s not. It’s been surprisingly sunny for this time of the year. The fog is only around your house.’</p><p>‘Oh, really?’</p><p>‘Yeah, you probably have foglets. I should take a look when I’m out.’ Geralt sighed, then steered the conversation back to the more relevant topic. ‘How determined is she to get in?’</p><p>‘She keeps beating on the glass until her hands start to bleed, calling my name. It’s hard to… focus.’</p><p>‘I see…’ Geralt hummed, staring at Jaskier with a questioning look. ‘Any other suspicious activities?’</p><p>‘What? Suspicious?’ He seemed shocked by the idea. ‘Hers or mine?’ He giggled as if it was a joke, although it clearly wasn’t. ‘No, why?’</p><p>‘You said there are a couple of problems.’</p><p>‘Oh, yes, yes, sure. Nothing <em>that</em> suspicious. Although every night before I fall asleep a disembodied, cracked voice whispers “you will die tomorrow” straight into my ear. It was freaky at first but, you know… The effect wears down with time.’</p><p>Geralt blinked hard a couple of times.</p><p>‘And then there’s a…’ Jaskier flinched and turned away slightly as if he expected Geralt to shout. ‘…a wyvern.’</p><p>‘A wyvern…’ Geralt’s voice appeared strained.</p><p>‘But it’s small… practically a baby. Or it was at…’</p><p>Geralt motioned him to continue.</p><p>‘At s-some point in the early summer.’ </p><p>‘Jaskier, for fuck’s sake. If I knew any of this was happening, I would have been here right away.’</p><p>Jaskier put his hands on his hips and puffed his chest a little. ‘Sure, it’s your job after all.’</p><p>‘No… Gods.’ He pinched the column of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment.</p><p>‘Heh…’ Jaskier chuckled with resignation. ‘Gods will not help you here. Believe me, I tried.’ He let out a short hysterical laugh, then shut himself up, instantly. ‘Ehm…’ He appeared a bit embarrassed again and took a couple deep breaths to calm down. ‘That domania who fucked up my tree is small potatoes, really.’</p><p>‘I can see that,’ Geralt nodded slowly. ‘What else? Fiery serpents crawling into your house through the chimney?’ he snapped sarcastically.</p><p>‘Yeah, but… on the upside, I’ve learned not to accept their gifts.’ He smiled reassuringly.</p><p>Geralt’s deadpan somehow managed to take on a tinge of desperation. ‘Do you not care if you live or die?’</p><p>‘I feel like you’re judging me,’ Jaskier huffed with indignation. ‘We’re focusing on problems here, clearly. But my life’s been great otherwise, thank you for asking.’</p><p>‘This is really not the time-’ </p><p>‘I have been doing fine, Geralt. My new album sold better than all my previous ones combined.’</p><p>‘Can we focus on-’</p><p>‘No.’ Jaskier was determined. ‘Could we talk about my album, please?’</p><p>Geralt groaned with extreme annoyance. ‘Yeah, sure…’ he agreed reluctantly. ‘It is very successful. Also… it’s called “Mountaintop Goodbye”.’</p><p>‘Yes, it is. What’s wrong with that?’ He waited, but Geralt was not interested in responding. ‘Q magazine called it “a true revelation of piercing heartbreak which will leave you devastated, and yet wanting more”. That’s high praise!’</p><p>‘So… it is,’ Geralt admitted, looking a bit overwhelmed.</p><p>‘Did you actually listen to it?’</p><p>‘Amazon kept adding some of your songs to my soundtrack. I listen on the way to work.’</p><p>‘Sure… Any thoughts?’</p><p>‘I thought the part about the “cruel betrayal” of “all that was sacred” about “the deep bond we once shared” felt like a bit… much?’</p><p>‘Well, that was mostly because “betrayal” rhymes really well with “portrayal”.’</p><p>‘Oh, as in “your unjust portrayal of all I’ve done for you”.’</p><p>‘Yeah, that’s right.’</p><p>‘Ah, sure, yeah, that… makes sense.’ Geralt nodded tentatively. ‘It’s a good song.’</p><p>‘Thank you.’</p><p>‘Maybe a bit too particular at times.’</p><p>‘How so?’</p><p>‘The part that says “I’ve loved you for over twenty years” appears… specific. I don’t think many listeners will relate.’</p><p>‘Personal touches are important.’</p><p>‘Right, yeah, right. You’d know,’ he admitted, appearing surprisingly docile. For a while, he stayed quiet but then his face twitched a bit as he prepared to ask. ‘Are all the horns and other… things just metaphors for your penis?’</p><p>‘Yes, they usually are…’</p><p>‘So that line about a white-haired menace getting impaled on a-’</p><p>‘Yes,’ he cut in before Geralt had a chance to finish. ‘Exactly.’</p><p>Geralt hummed, deep in thought. ‘There was a lot of it.’</p><p>‘There’s <em>always</em> been a lot of it. You just never<em> listened</em> before.’</p><p>‘I did listen,’ he protested, perhaps more passionately than he intended. ‘Somehow that didn’t help things much.’</p><p>‘Curious, that,’ Jaskier snapped, and pouted a little, seemingly unmoved by anything Geralt said so far. </p><p>Geralt just looked at him with disbelief. ‘Could you stop pretending you’re fine? It’s fucking unnerving.’</p><p>‘I really am fine, Geralt. If I’m a bit grumpy, it’s because I haven’t been out much lately.’</p><p>‘You’re <em>alone</em> on Christmas day.’</p><p>‘Not anymore,’ he sneered with a vicious smile. ‘You know what? Let’s just go to the kitchen and get this done, shall we?’ He motioned towards the door with both of his hands, his voice turning a bit too agitated for Geralt’s liking. ‘I really shouldn’t keep you.’</p><p>‘Sure, I-I’ll go as soon as I can…’ Geralt grumbled, but sounded a bit pained, and Jaskier turned away to hide his disappointment. </p><p>***</p><p>Geralt knelt and looked at an uneven, red shape painted on the kitchen floor. ‘What the fuck is that?’</p><p>Jaskier walked up closer. ‘It’s a magic circle,’ he stated matter-of-factly. ‘It was supposed to rid me of evil spirits.’</p><p>‘Did it?’ Geralt looked up at him with one raised eyebrow.</p><p>‘N-not really.’ Jaskier clearly didn’t enjoy admitting that.</p><p>‘What gave you the idea?’</p><p>Jaskier had a feeling Geralt wouldn't be impressed with his answer and muttered his response. ‘I found a tutorial on YouTube.’</p><p>Geralt suppressed a smile, but then looked closer and frowned. ‘Did you use your own blood?’</p><p>‘Was I not supposed to?’ he asked with genuine curiosity.</p><p>‘Hmmm…’ Geralt decided it was better not to comment.</p><p>‘I made a stone circle too,’ he added, pointing to a mess of rocks by the oven.</p><p>Geralt ignored that. ‘I think I know what’s happening,’ he explained with all the patience he could muster. ‘People in your neighborhood called witchers when things were becoming difficult at their end. Because you didn’t do anything when this started, all the monsters, once banished from the other homes, became attracted to yours. It’s… safe for them here.’</p><p>‘Ah, yes. That makes sense, actually,’ Jaskier admitted with a surprisingly eager nod.</p><p>Geralt’s eyes lingered on a row of decapitated roosters lying by the glass door to the garden. ‘You could have called somebody else.’</p><p>‘I would not do that,’ he was outraged by the idea. ‘They would have told you.’</p><p>‘Vesemir’s is not the only-’</p><p>‘No, but I don’t know anybody else,’ he cut in nervously.</p><p>‘That’s one, reasonable Google search I’d recommend,’ he mocked. ‘Or I can give you a name.’</p><p>Jaskier pursed his lips a little. ‘Do you <em>want to</em> leave?’</p><p>‘No…’ Geralt was impressed with himself for keeping his denial relatively neutral sounding. ‘I’d much rather sort it myself. I just meant…’ He hated explaining himself. ‘If you desperately didn’t want me around, you could have-’</p><p>‘I’m sure you have some events… in the business, anything. And then you’d know I couldn’t even ask for you. It would make me look… sad.’</p><p>‘So you think your album-’ Geralt stopped himself the moment he registered a shift in Jaskier’s expression and grunted uncomfortably. ‘Then you could have called me earlier, before things turned critical.’</p><p>‘And be the first to get in touch?’</p><p>‘It doesn’t matter who-’ He stopped himself again. ‘It’s not a contest you can win anyway.’</p><p>Jaskier bridled at his words. ‘See, this is exactly why I didn’t want you here. Also... there was no real need for me to try, anyway. The situation wasn’t even that bad.’</p><p>‘Not bad, you say?’</p><p>‘Right, fine…’ Jaskier sighed defensively. ‘I must admit. At one point I did get worried. And I-I did call Vesemir a few times hoping for some help. But whenever he offered to send somebody else, I would refuse to go through with it. And… things between me and him turned a little bit awkward.’</p><p>‘When?’</p><p>‘Doesn’t matter. This does get overwhelming at times, but I managed to cope in the end, right?’ He didn’t wait for any confirmation. ‘And Vesemir promised not to tell you, especially not about that one time I called him shitfaced drunk, talked about anything but you for over an hour, and then started to sing “It Must Have Been Love” while sobbing into the phone.’</p><p>Geralt tried very hard not to envision that.</p><p>‘But that was after…’ he trailed off instantly, looking a bit distant.</p><p>‘After what?’</p><p>‘Nothing.’</p><p>‘For fuck’s sake, Jaskier, can you be straight with me?’</p><p>Jaskier just let out a nervous chuckle in response.</p><p>‘Do you think I’m an idiot?’ Geralt growled, impatiently. ‘Something happened. Just fucking tell me.’</p><p>Jaskier’s eyes grew absent and he stared through the kitchen window, clearly looking for something. Then he turned to Geralt and exhaled sharply. ‘Sheesh, you just can’t stop pressing on. I did sleep with her, ok?’</p><p>‘You fucked a rusalka?’ It was hard to tell if Geralt was impressed, concerned, or surprised.</p><p>‘The dynamic was not as clear as that, but yes, broadly speaking. And then-’ He lost his impetus and appeared genuinely worried. ‘Then I did a quick search and found out I might die from it i-in a year or two and… <em>Well</em>…’</p><p>There was a glimmer of something authentic in Jaskier’s eyes when he looked back at Geralt, then quickly replaced by a burst of artificially inflated energy. ‘I mean, to be fair to her, it was <em>incredible</em>. A tad unusual at times, sure, but- eh, <em>oh boy</em>… The stuff she can do with her vocal cords… and the glow. An unforgettable experience. But after I found out, I-I locked her out.’ He flinched a bit, hands growing fidgety again. ‘It’s not her fault, really. Her intentions are good. And now she just sits there, in the cold, all alone.’</p><p>Jaskier glanced towards the window again, but there was nothing there. ‘Ever since, I’ve been a bit… unsettled to say the least. Because, not to panic or anything, but what if it’s one of these old curses that even you wouldn’t know how to break?’ His voice was becoming a bit shaky. ‘What if it’s, you know, set in stone, and… and I’ll have to wait knowing-’</p><p>‘Jaskier…’ Geralt’s voice grew softer, definitely not a good sign.</p><p>‘Don’t look at me with such bloody compassion or I might <em>actually </em>believe I am going to die.' He chucked uncomfortably. ‘Could you, please - without teasing - could you just…’ He anxiously ran his hand through his hair, his voice shifting to serious. ‘Just tell me I’ll be fine, please.’</p><p>‘Fuck, Jaskier… Do proper research for once. Google gives the worst health advice. It just tells you anything you do gives you cancer.’</p><p>‘Right?’</p><p>‘You will be fine. I don’t have it on me but I’ll bring the right potion the next time I’m here.’</p><p>‘Really?’ Jaskier sighed with such relief, Geralt did not even want to speculate about how long he must have lived with the question.</p><p>‘<em>Really</em>,’ he confirmed, feeling dangerously tempted to give the idiot a hug. ‘I will get all this done. It’ll be… back to normal soon.’</p><p>Jaskier smiled brightly for the first time since Geralt arrived. The sight made Geralt feel a glimmer of happiness, a long-forgotten spark he welcomed with relief. He was just about to open his mouth to say something he’d most likely regret later but didn’t get a chance.</p><p>‘Wait!’ Jaskier suddenly realised something. ‘So if sex with a rusalka is not deadly, does that mean it’s fine to-’</p><p>Geralt’s joyous moment dissipated instantly. ‘No, it’s not fine.’</p><p>‘Oh.’</p><p>‘Jaskier…’ Geralt congratulated himself for remaining relatively calm. ‘However attached you might be to her, she has to go. If she falls in love with you, she will try to take you with her. She lives in your pool and she will drag you there so you can be together. The fact that you cannot breathe underwater is, <em>and will remain</em>, lost on her. If you try to get out, she will hold you down until you drown.’</p><p>‘So…’ Jaskier seemed stunned. ‘She <em>doesn’t</em> love me?’</p><p>All remaining hope drained from Geralt’s face. ‘Jaskier, focus. She is dead. She is a dead woman.’</p><p>‘And you’re an emotionally unavailable witcher. Nobody’s perfect, Geralt!’ Jaskier threw his hands in the air in protest. ‘Maybe you could stay indifferent towards somebody who sings to you, waits for you, wants you, and literally screams your name for hours on end, but I <em>can’t</em>.’</p><p>Jaskier’s brain sized up for a moment, but he managed to regain his balance quickly. ‘And, yeah, it was a bit weird when she started to drag me towards the pool… but we only got as far as the kitchen. I just told her the tiles are too cold and I prefer the bed, and then it was <em>fine</em>.’ He punched out the last word with aggressive emphasis. ‘Although… Her hair turned green when we got close, and at first all she wanted to do was to tickle me. Is that normal?’ he asked with genuine concern.</p><p>‘<em>Julian</em>,’ a haunting voice wailed from outside the living room window. ‘Julian!’ The voice grew louder and came with a forceful slap on the glass, which made Jaskier flinch a bit. ‘Julian…’</p><p>‘It is this time of day,’ he explained to Geralt, apologetically. ‘Although normally she comes to the kitchen. She saw me when I was dressing the tree.’</p><p>‘You told her your real name?’</p><p>‘She did ask,’ Jaskier tossed his hair back and shrugged.</p><p>‘I can’t believe this…’ Geralt felt like giving up. ‘Did you actually let her in more than once?’</p><p>‘Y-yes.’</p><p>‘How the fuck are you still alive?’</p><p>The next assault on the window sounded even more aggressive, and Jaskier reluctantly nodded in response to Geralt’s concerned look. ‘I know it seems bad but it’s laminated glass. I called the company and they said it should withhold it fine.’</p><p>‘How exactly did you describe the issue?’</p><p>The next thump seemed different, and Jaskier turned towards the sound with interest. ‘Is she using-’ His sentence got interrupted by the loud sound of breaking glass. ‘Yes, she’s definitely using a stone.’  </p><p>Geralt quickly assessed the situation and arrived at a conclusion he strongly disliked. ‘We have to hide.’</p><p>‘What?’ Jaskier seemed genuinely surprised. ‘I can just tell her…’</p><p>‘No, you can’t,’ Geralt assured him while dragging him by the sleeve, and then pushing him out into the corridor.</p><p>The winter air entered the flat, filling it with cool freshness, and making Jaskier shiver. With relative amusement he realised where Geralt was leading him. ‘These really are the only circumstances that could ever justify you dragging me to the bedroom like this… in your mind that is.’ He meant it as a joke but some bitterness in his voice betrayed him.</p><p>‘Why are you not worried about her being here?’</p><p>‘Worried?’ He seemed amused by the idea. ‘Fuck, Geralt… Believe me, I was. But I am feeling much better now. And frankly…’ He blushed a little the moment Geralt pushed him into the bedroom. ‘I don’t see <em>any</em> reasons for concern.’</p><p>Geralt was just about ready to close the door when he caught himself staring at a hole in the frame where the lock used to be.</p><p>‘Oh,’ Jaskier started, seeing Geralt’s confused look. ‘Yeah, she ripped it out.’</p><p>‘Of course she did,’ Geralt mumbled to himself with growing annoyance. Then he heard her sing, a ghostly voice traveling through the air and echoing off the walls. He swallowed hard. ‘Jaskier?’</p><p>But Jaskier didn’t respond, his eyes turning a bit hazy.</p><p>‘Jaskier?’</p><p>‘Julian…’ she called out from the corridor.</p><p>‘Yes?’ he responded but Geralt was not sure to whom.</p><p>‘For fuck’s sake.’ Geralt grabbed his shoulders and shook him a bit, as her voice was drawing nearer. ‘Into the wardrobe with you.’</p><p>‘What?’ Jaskier appeared beyond confused and Geralt wasn't sure if it was the effect of her singing or a response to his plan.</p><p>‘Come on. She’ll see you’re not here and leave.’ He pushed Jaskier towards the wardrobe and opened the door, inviting him in as if it was a luxurious hotel room. ‘In you go.’ He waited a split second. ‘I mean it. In the fuck you go.’</p><p>But the singing resumed and Jaskier was already slowly moving towards the voice radiating from behind the wall.</p><p>‘Shit.’ He grabbed Jaskier, pushed him in, then squeezed in next to him, closing the door behind them both, barely fitting into the tight space. He only had a split second to decide if it would be more awkward facing Jaskier or turning his back to him. He went with facing, and then regretted it instantly when he ended up with his back tightly pressed against the side panel, Jaskier’s nose inches away from his.</p><p>‘Wow…’ Jaskier tried hard to stop himself from laughing. ‘You literally locked us in a closet,’ he snickered, while shifting uncomfortably, and trying, in vain, to move away from an expensive jacket he was squashing.</p><p>‘Shut up, and stop moving,’ Geralt ordered assertively, although a trained ear would perhaps recognise a note of helplessness which might or might not have resulted from Jaskier wiggling uncomfortably close to him in a futile attempt to avoid being hit in his face with a wooden hanger.</p><p>‘I’m sorry,’ he protested, pointedly failing to gesticulate. ‘We’re currently damaging my best clothes. I’m pretty sure this is also a metaphor, perhaps of the emotional, physical, and material cost of hiding from-’</p><p>‘Shut up, she’s here,’ he whispered furiously, seriously considering pushing a sock into Jaskier’s mouth. Only all socks appeared to be at the bottom of the wardrobe and Geralt was sure most of them were not even clean.</p><p>The quiet crack of the door to the room opening instantly got their attention.</p><p>‘Julian…’ she sang, a note of sweetness and yearning in her voice.</p><p>If Geralt had his swords, he wouldn’t have hesitated - simple solutions were usually best, experience taught him that. Slaughtering the rusalka in front of Jaskier was a bit of a grim prospect, but far from the worst-case scenario. It’s not like there was that much of Jaskier’s love to be lost there, or so he hoped. Unfortunately, he had nothing but two hands he was forced to use to incapacitate Jaskier the best he could.</p><p>In fact, the annoying man in question was already opening his mouth and shifting towards the door when Geralt grabbed him carefully, arm strategically wrapping itself around his waist. He hoped neither of them would make any noise as he covered Jaskier’s mouth with his hand, feeling a bit too much like he was suffocating him.</p><p>Jaskier struggled a bit, and his legs shuffled slightly, then got unsettlingly tangled with Geralt’s. Annoying yes, but at least, despite the imperfect grasp, Geralt managed to muffle the incoming huffs of indignation.</p><p>‘Julian,’ she called out again. She was moving around the room, appearing a bit lost.</p><p>Geralt expected Jaskier to make another attempt to escape, but for some reason he stopped moving instead. He was just beginning to realise that to an uninformed outsider the distinction between <em>holding Jaskier to keep him still</em>, and simply<em> holding Jaskier</em> would most likely blur at this point, as crucial as it was. And perhaps, despite the both of them being anything but uninformed, the difference was lost on them, too.</p><p>As frustrating as Jaskier’s noise truly was, every stupid overreaction exposing them to the threat, the silence was much more unnerving. Without Jaskiers whinging, Geralt’s witcher senses were going into an overdrive. He could not only hear Jaskier’s heartbeat as clearly as his own, but also feel it resonating through his whole body, the pulse gently throbbing in Jaskier’s lips which remained pressed firmly against the inside of Geralt’s hand, and a warm tickle of Jaskier’s breath, calming at first, then turning a bit frantic.</p><p>It was like watching a car crash in slow motion. The inevitable arrived, armed with the confidence of a disaster which it knows cannot be averted. Jaskier knew there was not much he could hide from Geralt. There was no point in pretending to be indifferent, and no option to divert attention with words, or to turn the situation into a joke. No way to deny anything, not with Geralt being able to smell Jaskier’s arousal clear as day, and not with Geralt’s thigh stuck in between his legs. It was obvious. There was nothing either of them could do.</p><p>They both silently agreed the situation was uncomfortable, but it was meant to stop at that. Geralt was neither shocked, nor surprised, and fully anticipated Jaskier would shrug it off, or perhaps make an awkward remark when they were out. He didn’t expect Jaskier to find it painful and humiliating instead. The problem was that, with Jaskier, things rarely went as he expected.</p><p>The feeling was palpable, Jaskier’s muscles grew tense, heart quickened even further, eyes watered slightly. Neither of them paid attention to what was happening outside anymore. All Geralt could hear, feel, and smell got reduced to Jaskier shaking in his arms, breath breaking a little. Before he could even start questioning his response, Geralt felt helpless, and more guilty than he imagined possible, a painful lump instantly forming in his throat.</p><p>‘Julian,’ the voice returned, her feet shuffling on the floor. She was not going away, as accustomed as she was to waiting.</p><p>Geralt shifted as quietly as he could, and tried to move away, determined to let Jaskier breathe a little. Within the constricted space, his efforts had the exact opposite effect. His thigh pressed tighter in between Jaskier’s legs, making him let out something between a moan and a whimper, even with Geralt’s hand still pressed to his lips. Gerat felt a wave of blood rushing to his face, his own heart rattling slightly, surely just a natural side effect of his worry the rusalka could have heard them.  </p><p>Staying motionless was a much better strategy yet, still, Geralt used his other hand to squeeze Jaskier’s shoulder, a bit of reassurance, maybe an apology, anything to make this stop. Only, in reality, that was what neither of them wanted. So at the risk of making things worse, Geralt turned the awkward hold he had on Jaskier into an actual hug. He squeezed him tight, feeling him try to move away at first then giving into it with a soft exhale. There was another little shake, then his muscles finally relaxed, and for a brief moment they were fine.</p><p>Tentatively, Geralt moved his hand away from Jaskier’s face, just a brief brush against his lips, hoping he wouldn't regret it when the rusalka starts singing again. And then there was a warm cheek brushing against his forehead. Suddenly the weight of their time apart lifted somehow. It was obvious no problems were solved, but without words and with no ability to ruin the moment, Geralt felt as if he managed to get him back for a brief moment, or perhaps even find a way for them to coexist without hurting one another. He hoped the hug would help Jaskier to calm down, and express things he would sure as fuck not say. Instead, it felt like a short peek behind a door he knew he could never open again.</p><p>But no matter how many times Geralt would swear to himself this was nothing, and it would be insane to even try, he caught himself feeling elated when Jaskier returned his embrace. A strong hold of familiar arms made something in him break, quite unexpectedly. </p><p>Then their eyes popped open. Something was different. There was nobody outside, not a breath, not the slightest shuffle. She was gone.</p><p>Geralt nudged the door open, let go of Jaskier with surprising reluctance, and looked out. The bedroom was empty, and the cool air pleasant on his face.</p><p>He walked out and looked around. The garden looked calm through the window, a few branches swaying in the wind, and snow growing thicker. There wasn’t a trace of her. He motioned at Jaskier to let him know the coast was clear.</p><p>Jaskier emerged looking a bit disheveled. He straightened out his old, stretched-out jumper with emphasis worthy of a designer suit, and cleared his throat. The sound lingered, uncomfortably in the silence. Not discouraged, he stretched his neck, brushed his hand through his hair, and finally shook his head like a dog after a dive down a puddle.</p><p>Geralt fought to suppress a fond smile. His eyes kept following Jaskier’s every movement, something they were both painfully aware of.</p><p>Jaskier turned around to rearrange the hangers, and carefully straightened out the creased clothes, hands moving slowly, and deliberately. This was obviously just Jaskier’s attempt to cool off, his pulse still drumming in Geralt’s ears, even from a distance. It was a process that should not be disturbed, Geralt thought, taking out his phone.</p><p>Geralt sat down on the bed and did a few quick searches, scrolling through a few sites, listening to the quiet shuffle of the hangers, and Jaskier’s gentle sighs, his heartbeat gradually slowing down, breath becoming even again. It was disturbing how much he enjoyed this, a flash of normalcy they hadn’t really earned.</p><p>Time passed by slowly, almost comfortably. Too comfortably, perhaps.</p><p>‘Jaskier?’</p><p>Jaskier jumped a little in response and chastised himself for it. Turning away from the wardrobe was not really something he was prepared for quite yet but did regardless. There was genuine fear in his eyes when they met Geralt’s. </p><p>‘Take a look at that,’ Geralt held out his phone, tone casual. ‘Is that her?’</p><p>Jaskier came closer and took the phone, noticing Geralt had many missed calls and notifications. Then he saw a smiling face of a pretty, young woman, eyes shining and full of life, a quality which was most definitely missing from them now. ‘Kalina,’ he read underneath, voice absent. ‘She never told me her name. When I asked, she said she…’ - his voice broke a little - ‘…doesn’t remember.’</p><p>‘Missing since the spring,’ Geralt added, pointing at the date. ‘Your area.’</p><p>‘No, you don’t have to-’ He looked away and felt like an idiot. It was obvious she was dead so there was no reason for this to upset him so. ‘It’s her alright.’</p><p>‘Good, that will make it easier.’</p><p>‘Make <em>what</em> easier?’ Jaskier heard his tone turn hostile, then appeared surprised.</p><p>‘Getting rid of her,’ Geralt stated simply, a bit impatient as if Jaskier should not need a clarification.</p><p>‘Getting-’ Jaskier had issues processing that. He took a deep breath in a futile attempt to appear calmer. ‘Well, Geralt, y-you know what…’ His sadness fully shifted into anger. ‘This is <em>still</em> my home. And I’m the one who called you. Maybe it’s not what I want, hm? Maybe I don’t want to “get rid of her” as you compassionately put it? Maybe she’s just fine here.’</p><p>Geralt looked vaguely offended. ‘Jaskier… People die, all the fucking time. It’s sad, sure, but there is nothing anyone can do here, trust me. I’m not letting her hurt you, just because you can’t accept the obvious.’</p><p>‘Hurt me?’ Jaskier shook his head, not pleased with how upset he sounded. ‘Since when are you so squeamish about me getting hurt?’ The question sounded surprisingly earnest. ‘Or is it fine when you do it, but she’s not allowed? B-because, she’s been a great help since you’ve been gone. And she doesn’t drag me back and forth like that, no false hope, no promises, no crumbs so I calm down just enough so <em>the issue</em> doesn’t have to be addressed.’</p><p>Jaskier stopped for a moment, his look so persistent, Geralt felt compelled to look away. ‘She actually wants me around, you know? She <em>actually</em> wants me. And, surprisingly enough, there hasn’t been a day yet when she decided it’s easier to discard me, rather than just drag it on, as if-’ Jaskier was choking on the words a bit. ‘As if being close to me was pointless, just because I-I might have <em>some</em> unwanted-’</p><p>‘Jaskier…’</p><p>‘Yes?’ He waited. The moment lingered uncomfortably. ‘Go on, please.’ He nodded, encouragingly. ‘Go ahead, say something.’ Another pause, even longer than the previous. ‘Can you? Can you <em>actually</em> say something?’</p><p>Geralt appeared stunned. ‘I need to…’ he started with hesitation, blinking nervously. ‘I need to… go to the car and get a couple of things.’</p><p>Jaskier snorted, somehow still disappointed, although he expected nothing less. ‘Good point,’ he said finally. ‘You don’t seem to have anything on you.’ He shook his head with exaggerated disapproval. ‘I’ve never seen you so unprepared.’</p><p>‘I didn’t-’</p><p>‘You didn’t think there was anything wrong, right? You just thought it was just me coming up with some silly ploy to beg for your attention?’</p><p>‘Not the words I’d use,’ Geralt said assertively, a little bit of anger finally shining through.</p><p>‘No, that’s <em>exactly</em> the kind of words you’d use,’ Jaskier insisted with unwavering confidence.</p><p>‘Mhmmm,’ Geralt hummed with something between agreement and disapproval, not quite willing to deny it. ‘I thought you wanted to see me.’</p><p>Jaskier didn’t respond, just stood there in silence, eyes set on Geralt still. ‘And you?’ he asked, finally.</p><p>‘And me what?’ Geralt burst out with anger, then flinched, and ignored the look Jaskier gave him. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, eyes gravitating towards the floor. ‘I’ll get the things,’ he mumbled, finally.</p><p>He walked away, ignoring the shake in his legs.</p><p>With all the horrors he faced, Geralt sometimes blamed himself for going too far, or not going far enough. Often, he wished he acted differently. In some extreme cases, he considered himself a failure or a disappointment. It was a part of the job - he won some, he lost some. But he had never felt like a coward before.</p><p>***</p><p>The air was cold and the snow heavy. The nearest neighbour was several kilometers away, and the darkness encroached on Jaskier’s house. Geralt got into the car, shut the door, and stared at the flurry of white through the windshield for a long while, his breathing weirdly constricted. A part of him just wanted to drive away, but he didn’t even start the car to warm it up. It was freezing, and he was beginning to shiver.</p><p>Finally, he took out his phone and looked through the missed calls and messages. No surprises there. Not the best time for calling back, and yet he couldn’t stop himself.</p><p>‘Yennefer?’ he asked stupidly. Hers was most definitely the name he had selected.</p><p>‘I can’t talk,’ she snapped. ‘Want a chat? Come back here.’</p><p>‘I can’t...’</p><p>‘What does he want? Is he crying yet?’</p><p>‘Yen, fuck…’ He shook his head with extra emphasis. Pointless, considering she couldn’t see him.</p><p>‘What?’ Her voice was barely audible over the sounds of loud chatter in the background. ‘I told you this is a bad fucking idea.’ She covered up the microphone and talked to somebody in the room for a minute. ‘Wait, Triss is really determined to say something.’</p><p>‘Christmas is the time of forgiveness. You should both give each other a chance,’ Triss managed to say softly, before Yennefer tore the phone away from her.</p><p>‘Jesus, Triss. What the fuck was that? You’ve lost your phone privileges,' Yennifer announced with pure indignation. ‘Don’t listen to her. She’s drunk,’ she added offhand. ‘Gotta go. I celebrate by celebrating, you celebrate by nursing his bleeding heart. Everybody’s different.’ </p><p>‘Wait,’ Geralt groaned into the phone and to his surprise she waited. ‘Is there something I don’t know about rusalkas?’</p><p>‘You’re the monster specialist.’ She was mocking him but something in her voice shifted. ‘He’s actually in trouble?’</p><p>‘He is,’ Geralt confirmed, sounding dangerously close to disappointed.</p><p>She chuckled. ‘Oh, well… You’re not <em>all that</em> after all, hm?’ She considered the previous question for a moment. ‘You know all you need to about rusalkas. There’s no magic that can help. You have to chop her pretty, little head clean the fuck off.’</p><p>‘He’s in love with her.’</p><p>‘Of course he is,’ she responded without hesitation, while chewing on something.</p><p>Geralt seemed puzzled for a moment, and then was surprised by a sudden wave of anger. ‘Why does he annoy you that much?’</p><p>‘He is the definition of annoying,’ she snorted. ‘What the fuck are you doing there, really? Kill whatever needs killing and leave him alone.’</p><p>Geralt went quiet for a long while.</p><p>‘Geralt?’ She sounded genuinely concerned. ‘Still there?’</p><p>He hummed in affirmative tones.</p><p>‘What’s wrong?’</p><p>‘Nothing.’</p><p>She imitated his previous hum and took another bite of whatever it was she was eating. ‘That doesn’t sound like nothing.’</p><p>He growled with annoyance at her, surprised by his own response ‘Then what <em>does it</em> sound like?’ </p><p>She went quiet, and when she spoke, she sounded surprisingly serious. ‘Do what you like.’ And she hung up.</p><p>Geralt swore to himself and sat in a silence for a few minutes, then grabbed the swords from the back seat with a loud sigh.</p><p>***</p><p>Flurries blew in through the wide-open broken window, the flakes gently settling onto the needles of the Christmas tree. Snow was scattered over the wooden floor, melting by the iron radiator but still fluffy on the windowsill.</p><p>The rusalka’s feet gracefully maneuvered in between the scattered ornaments. Her skin glimmered as she swayed, a ghostly glow rivalled only by the bright lights on the tree behind her. The wind was strong, and the thin curtains were dancing around her, golden hair whirling madly as she spun.</p><p>She hummed quietly, some incoherent words forming in the sound. Her steps echoed through the corridor, a quick pirouette by the window, then a rushed run to the carpet near the entrance.</p><p>Abruptly, she stopped and listened.</p><p>Then she started to sing, her otherworldly timbre permeating the air, growing louder, a wordless melody, an echo which vibrated in the air with multiple voices as if there was a choir standing behind her. The drumming, gentle at first, quickly began to turn violent, but her music was soothing and sweet. It carried the sound of the wind, the branches bending and snapping with the breeze. The tones were low, and reverberated through the walls around her, bringing the elements into the enclosed space, a ghostly ringing hidden underneath a human voice.</p><p>Jaskier was sitting on his bed, back leaning against the frame, but as he heard her, he raised his head, stood up and walked calmly towards the door. ‘I’m here,’ he called out to her.</p><p>She heard him and smiled, the melody shifting to something familiar he could not quite put his finger on.</p><p>He started to sing, almost shyly, a little tremble in his voice, and she responded instantly, the notes aligning themselves until they sang in perfect harmony, both voices growing stronger.</p><p>The bedroom door opened by itself with a quiet creak, and she entered with a gust of wind behind her. She stopped and took in the sight of him, eyes fond, a wide, affectionate smile on her face. Her movements synchronized with his as they approached each other.  </p><p>‘You’re sad,’ she said, worried, arm already outstretched to touch his face. ‘Something is wrong.’</p><p>He grabbed her hand and squeezed it lightly, a strange feeling taking over him, only something that happened every time he saw her, the impression of another person being there, yet absent at the same time.</p><p>‘Come with me,’ she said, a bit more determined than usual. ‘Come with me,’ she repeated, the tone drifting as if she was far away.</p><p>It was impossible to look at her the same way as before, ever since he saw the photo. He couldn’t stop imagining what must have happened to her, many gruesome possibilities brewing in his mind.</p><p>‘I’ve missed you,’ she said, sounding so committed, it made his stomach squeeze. ‘So much.’</p><p>‘I’ve missed you too,’ he said, and he meant it, perhaps more than he wished to.</p><p>Her look was inquisitive, and it lingered on his tired eyes. As if responding to the sight, she began to hum again, a calming sound, the exact same melody she would sing in the spring.</p><p>As the days became warmer and he started to open his windows before going to bed, she would sit on the grass outside of his bedroom and hum until he fell asleep. She was the sound of the birds in the morning, the crickets chirping at night. It was as if she knew he was at his most heartbroken then, and made sure he was never alone, her voice forming a thread of reassuring continuity which tied his days together. </p><p>When he started to compose again in the summer, she would pick up on the new melodies, singing with him, his ideas melding with hers. The quiet murmur of her voice which permeated his nights was becoming more his, more familiar. The songs practically wrote themselves. But when he tried to record her, his own voice was all he could hear. He would leave his phone at the windowsill often, hoping he’ll finally manage to capture her ghostly call. The next day, he’d hit play and listen to unsettling silence. Nothing but the wind.</p><p>‘Come with me,’ she said again, her voice like a warm embrace. ‘You don’t have to be alone.’ She moved closer. In the weak lights of the lamps shining from behind the window, her hair turned to green again, features becoming warped. ‘I’ll take you home. You’ll be free. You’ll be safe, unchangeable.’ The words echoed, a quiet choir of voices repeating after her. I’ll love you forever,’ she promised, pulling him towards her, moving them slowly towards the door, his feet already following hers, even before he realised.  </p><p>***</p><p>Geralt barged back into the house, swords strapped to his back, a flash of determination in his eyes. Then he allowed his senses to take in the space, the coldness radiating from the living room, the smells coming from the kitchen, and the overwhelming, unjustifiable silence.</p><p>‘Jaskier?’ He noticed the opened door to the bedroom and walked towards it slowly, cautious, his hand already reaching for the sword. ‘Jaskier.’ But there was no response, not a single heartbeat. Then he heard his own pick up the pace a bit.</p><p>His hand moved tentatively towards the door as he pushed it open even further, looking in. There was no reason to panic so far, not really. And yet, Geralt was beginning to hate himself for leaving. Jaskier managed to survive for months and months in this monster-infested hellhole, but it would be just like him to die when left alone for less than half an hour on fucking Christmas Day.</p><p>Geralt moved swiftly from the living room to the kitchen, checked the bathroom, roamed the corridors, nothing but a mess, and persistent reminders of all the time they’ve spent together in this godforsaken place.</p><p>There was even a framed photo standing on the mantelpiece. It was dressed up as if it starred in a fucking Hallmark film, wrapped tightly in fairy lights woven into some green tinsel. Despite all Geralt’s protests, Jaskier took it around two years ago, the perspective warped from the insufficient distance of an outstretched arm, both their faces barely fitting the frame. Geralt looked anything but pleased but Jaskier’s smile shone for them both.</p><p>‘I don’t mind you looking like a grumpy sod,’ Jaskier explained when examining the shot the following evening. ‘That was the point of the whole endeavor, to capture the very essence of your being, and it worked.’ He smiled at the photo with such fondness Geralt’s eyes started to bulge.</p><p>Geralt went back into the kitchen, eyes scanning the counter. It was covered in flour and dough, some biscuits ready for baking, an oil stain on the tea towel wrapped around a metal bowl. There was a blanket thrown over one of the chairs.</p><p>His treacherous mind conjured the image of Jaskier walking around the house, wrapped in a thick layer of wool, a mug in his hand, most likely humming something, feeling a bit cold, even with the heating on. Then he noticed an abandoned mug, tea only half drunk, and felt a shiver run down his spine.</p><p>Useless hesitation and overthinking, the exact reasons all clients should be strangers. It only took him a few minutes to examine the house, reasonable enough, but also a demonstrably bad decision. The solution was obvious. There were tracks in the snow behind the garden door. They must have led to the pool. And if he slipped, even by seconds, it would be his own damn fault.</p><p>It would only take up to 20 minutes in freezing water before Jaskier’s muscles would go limp and he’d fall under. And how long could he possibly fight her anyway? Ten minutes tops, joints growing stiffer with every movement, gasping for air in brief moments, water frantically splashing. And that’s if one discounted the temperature shock of being suddenly submerged, heart stopping, a long pause, the agonizing seconds before it gets going again. If it does.</p><p>It would just be about three to four minutes if she was holding him down, maybe up to six if he was lucky, most likely not. At least a few minutes to get him out, however long it would take to get the water out of his lungs, all while his body was losing heat in the snow. Pulling him into the house… That was at least two minutes, and the place was cool because of the broken window.</p><p>Geralt imagined what it must feel like to have freezing pool water enter your lungs, the burning and the pain, the icy sting in your chest, the heart going frantic before it starts to slow down. The fear that goes with it.</p><p>The tracks were already partially covered up by the fresh snow, still falling intensely, wind picking up. They were not leading towards the pool.</p><p>He stopped and took a moment to breathe. Then he ran, knowing exactly where they went, the groove in the snow flashing in front of his eyes, the house disappearing from view.</p><p>One of the reasons Jaskier bought this place, a secluded building in the middle of nowhere, was because it was so close to the forest.</p><p>The first time they walked there was in the early summer years ago, a relentlessly sunny day. Jaskier was determined to convince Geralt sinking into debt for years was not that much of a problem. The plan was obviously terrible, and with Jaskier’s irregular income it appeared borderline suicidal. ‘Geralt,’ he whined, ‘I have to get this. It’s not overpriced if you think about it. It has a huge garden.’</p><p>‘Which you don’t want to take care of.’</p><p>‘Yes,’ Jaskier nodded, not discouraged in the least. ‘And, as you can see, I can get out at the back, walk through a lovely winding path, and here I am, right in front of a charming little lake.’ He spread his arms dramatically as they emerged from a few rather dense bushes and saw the reflection of the sun in the water. The green of the plants framing it was deep and saturated, and there was a huge weeping willow hanging over the surface.</p><p>Geralt didn’t say a word, but then decided to take on a few big contracts. He just happened to prioritise the people who paid in advance, never a decision that needed extra justification. It was an investment, or so Jaskier called it, and before he knew it, all Geralt’s savings were gone, and he was covering a big chunk of the cost.</p><p>Yen would not shut up about it. ‘Are you planning to live with him?’ she asked, her tone purely mocking, but she was actually worried, he knew.</p><p>‘If he sells, the return will be better than if I just relied on the bank.’ His voice was confident but lacking in conviction. He was worried too.</p><p>There was just one more turn along the forest path. Geralt listened to the sound of snow crunching underneath his feet. Time was stretching, his movements slowed down by the slight slip of the ice hidden by the white, glistening surface, freezing air gripping his lungs.</p><p>The sky was clear, the moon bright, but the darkness behind the trees felt oppressive. He was getting close and yet he still couldn’t hear a thing. It was quiet enough for him to expect the worst. Finally, he made the turn, emerged from the trees which were snugly wrapped in snow, and saw the lake.</p><p>Geralt’s heart skipped a beat and then, perhaps prematurely, leaped when he saw two figures near the water, barely recognizable behind a wall of white flakes. Jaskier’s back was turned to him, and the rusalka was a few feet ahead. He approached them both cautiously, already hearing bits of the conversation.</p><p>‘I’m sorry,’ he heard Jaskier say with genuine sadness. ‘I wish I could, I really do.’</p><p>Geralt drew his silver sword, feet moving swiftly.</p><p>Jaskier heard him and turned around. His eyes could barely make things out in the dark but he recognised the outline moving towards him, the unmistakable black shape cutting across the white landscape, flashing behind the dancing flurry of snow.</p><p>He took a few steps back, instinctively, arms outstretched, his whole body blocking Geralt’s access to the rusalka.</p><p>For a moment, Geralt felt as if he was the threat. Jaskier’s heartbeat picked up, the ghostly woman clung to him, hands wrapped around his waist. Not as used to being the monster in these scenarios as others tended to suspect, Geralt hesitated before stopping at a safe distance.</p><p>The lake was only partially frozen, and the thick layer of snow made it impossible to tell where the land started and water ended, all boundaries blurred. One step in the wrong direction, and Jaskier could find himself on the ice, a quiet crack, then a plunk.</p><p>Geralt waded through all his memories of the place, trying to estimate the distance. It was impossible to tell. In his mind all the proportions seemed distorted, the images confused and incomplete. ‘Move away,’ he snarled, speaking to her, realising he probably should have addressed Jaskier instead.</p><p>‘Leave her alone.’ Jaskier was protective, aggressive, voice sounding strong despite his hands shaking a bit, lips turning blue from the cold. All he was wearing was the pathetic jumper, and his old joggers, shoes hidden in the snow. If he was trying to prove he had the situation under control, this was not making his argument any stronger. ‘I-I just need to talk to her,’ he said, shivering a bit, hair covered in white.</p><p>Geralt felt beyond hopeless. ‘Jaskier, please…’ He already sounded as if he was begging and Jaskier just shook his head in response. ‘This is not going to work.’</p><p>‘Can we return to this conversation when it actually doesn’t, please?’</p><p>‘It will be too late, then,’ Geralt said with some actual fear in his voice, and Jaskier looked surprised. Geralt’s eyes were following her hands as they moved up from Jaskier’s waist, wrapping themselves slowly around his neck, eyes growing wild.</p><p>‘Kalina?’ Jaskier turned towards her, shaking her hands away as if it was not a problem at all. Her eyes took on a weird shine when he said her name. ‘Kalina, right?’</p><p>She was breathing fast, and looked almost hurt, head shaking in disagreement.</p><p>‘Stop that,’ he said assertively, and to Geralt’s amazement, she did. ‘You’re not all gone, I know you’re not.’ He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed them lightly, pulling her closer, and she embraced him, green hair rolling down his back. ‘You’re still there. And you don’t want to hurt me.’ As he said it, her eyes popped open and she stared directly at Geralt, pupils wide, nails digging into Jaskier’s arms.</p><p>‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ she repeated, her voice broken into many voices speaking in unison. ‘I want you to go with me. Go with me, please.’ She slowly led him closer to the water, feet falling deeper into the snow as she walked.</p><p>He pulled away and looked directly at her. ‘I’ll die in the water. You must know that.’</p><p>‘Jaskier, for fuck’s sake.’ Geralt was truly losing all patience.  </p><p>She tilted her head a bit and appeared curious. ‘You can’t go in?’</p><p>‘No, I can’t go in,’ Jaskier repeated after her, teeth chattering slightly. ‘I-I understand, I r-really do. I don’t want to be alone either. But I can’t go with you. I can’t.’</p><p>‘You can’t,’ she said, and her voice broke with a quiet whimper.</p><p>Geralt gaped at them both in pure disbelief.</p><p>‘No, I can’t,’ Jaskier repeated again. ‘Listen, I…’ he hesitated, suddenly very aware of Geralt standing right behind him. ‘You’ve done so much for me,’ he said, finally, his hand brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear, almost involuntarily. ‘I-I don’t know what I would have done without you. I was so down, and you’ve done s-so much...’</p><p>She appeared authentically moved, eyes watering slightly.</p><p>‘But you can’t keep waiting for me,’ he continued, voice growing stronger. ‘It’s not fair to ask you to stay knowing I could never give you what you want. Because I could never. And I hate seeing you outside. Because this, <em>this</em> is truly as far as I can go. I can’t help you. As much as I’d like to. I don’t know how.’</p><p>He was clearly upset and yet managed to hold himself together. ‘But if you want to stay,’ he spoke to her softly. ‘If you want to stay, even knowing I can’t, I’d be so happy to have you here. But you’d have to stay… stay knowing I’m not what you want me to be and can never become that. Do you understand?’ He held both her hands and squeezed them lightly.</p><p>She looked away, deep in thought, and then slipped her hands away from his and grabbed him, a tight embrace, her lips right by his ear.</p><p>Geralt moved towards her, ready to strike, but she stilled, eyes piercing through him.</p><p>When she started speaking, she talked fast, breathless, words melting into each other. ‘One day he just pushed me away. It was as if I was nothing. So I came here. It was the first warm day in the spring, a dark night, there was a bird sitting on the branch of the willow. The wind was gentle, the sky clear. I imagined what that would feel like for him to find out. I wanted him to feel as I felt. I imagined what I would look like when they found me. I wanted him to see me like that and know it’s his fault. All his fault, every bit of it.’</p><p>She took a deep breath, still focused on Geralt, and he looked uneasy, lowering his sword. ‘I wanted him to think about how difficult it was to stay down, when everything in me screamed for life,’ she started again, words still rushed. ‘And it was so difficult, and the water so cold. And it hurt when the water got into my lungs. And as it did, I no longer cared what he thought. I didn’t care at all. Because I could no longer stop it. And I wanted it to stop, so badly. I wanted it to stop. And I wanted to get out. All I wanted was to go back home.’</p><p>She smiled, a shadow of an indescribable feeling passing over her face. ‘And all my reasons to go through with it appeared so distant, so foreign. All my ideas... impossible to comprehend. All I did and thought before, just dissolved into nothing. It was all clear, in that moment, for a moment. And I would have given anything to get out of the lake. Anything to take it back. But I couldn’t.’ She squeezed Jaskier tighter. ‘I couldn’t.’</p><p>‘I’m sorry,’ he managed to say, all words suddenly feeling void and insufficient. ‘I’m so sorry.’</p><p>‘You’ve been kind,’ she whispered. ‘And I wish I could stay. But I’m not what you need either. I’ve been gone for a long time now.’</p><p>‘You’re still here,’ he protested, surprised when she ripped herself away from his arms.</p><p>Her body swayed as she walked past Jaskier and stood in front of Geralt, bold, almost daring him to strike. He raised his sword again, but his movements were filled with doubt. ‘No, I’m not,’ she said softly. ‘I’ve never left that lake.’</p><p>And when Jaskier turned back to face her again, his eyes met Geralt’s. She was gone.</p><p>***</p><p>They walked in uncomfortable silence. The lake was a way behind them. Jaskier was unwilling to speak. He was wearing Geralt’s jacket, which he barely remembered taking, holding on to its collar as if he was worried it might escape.</p><p>Geralt was close, and if he wasn’t worried that Jaskier would just push him off, he would have wrapped his arm around his shoulders to shelter him from the cold. It was an unpleasant sight, Jaskier wading through the snow, skin unnaturally pale. He was shivering, and weirdly unresponsive.</p><p>‘Jaskier…’ Geralt started, surprised by the hesitation in his voice.</p><p>‘I’ll take that name,’ he said, finally.</p><p>‘What name?’ As relieved as he was to hear him speak, he was more than confused by that beginning.  </p><p>‘Of whatever witcher you’d recommend.’</p><p>Geralt grunted, slowly realising what this was.</p><p>‘You’re right. I- ehm… I can’t let myself live like this just because of what happened.’ Jaskier sounded confident, which seemed impossible considering his still chattering teeth. ‘I-I can get the rest arranged f-from a hotel, maybe. I can afford it n-now.’ He chuckled sadly. ‘After it’s done I-I can… sell the house. Then you’d get your share. I-I don’t think I can-’</p><p>‘Stop that,’ Geralt’s voice broke almost imperceptibly, his anger falling flat this time.</p><p>Jaskier huffed with indignation. ‘What do you think I should do, then?’ His tone turned mocking. ‘What does your bottomless witchery wisdom suggest a mere mortal should do in this kind of a situation?’</p><p>‘Don’t sell your house because you’re upset with me, for a start,’ Geralt huffed.</p><p>‘Oh, right, sure… If you say so.’</p><p>Geralt rolled his eyes. ‘One would imagine singing about it would get it out of your system.’</p><p>Jaskier’s nervous laugh rang in the air. 'Oh, you think so, huh?’ There was some unexpected anger in his voice. ‘It just so happens that I didn’t sing about the most painful part, I- eh… I left that bit out. Not the thing I’m ready to relive on a regular basis, really,’ he admitted, eyes wide. ‘Because…’ He sighed, clearly unhappy to breach the topic. ‘It wasn’t what you said, or even how you said it. Sure it was… <em>Well</em>, it was what it was. But you’ve said and done worse before. So… I was sure, you’d just be back. I gave it a week, then two, then a month…’ His eyes grew distant. ‘I never imagined you would cut me off,<em> really</em> cut me off like that, regardless of what you said. Because sometimes- <em>often</em>, words <em>are</em> just words with you. And sometimes you get angry, and often, <em>so often</em>, you try to push me away.’</p><p>Jaskier paused and took a shaky breath. ‘I just couldn’t make myself believe it was <em>the real thing</em> this time, the thought would not- <em>could not</em> enter this thick skull of mine. It just couldn’t. But then, finally, I understood. There was no way to…’  He trailed off, then inhaled sharply. ‘There’s a limit, even to <em>my</em> ability to keep hoping. And we have, most definitely, hit that wall. Not a single call. Not a single message. Not a single attempt, <em>nothing</em>.’</p><p>‘No, I-’ Geralt started but Jaskier’s look made him stop.</p><p>‘And it was h-humiliating just how long it took me to realise that you can, in fact, cut me out, entirely. Just like that. Just because I got a bit more direct when, w-well…’ He licked his lips nervously. ‘You left me alone. N-not a problem, obviously. And suddenly it became so clear that u-us was just me, all this time… So when <em>I </em>stopped, there was nothing.’</p><p>‘That’s not…’ Geralt started but was not quite sure how to finish.</p><p>‘Well, yeah. I could have sworn there was more to it than that. But it turned out that perhaps- most likely, in fact, I was alone much sooner than I realised. I just refused to see it that way.’ He chuckled sadly. ‘So, of course, you could leave. It must have been relatively easy for you. And yet not a feat <em>I’ve</em> ever been capable of, clearly. I couldn’t even i-imagine, but you… Well, you’ve done more than imagine, haven’t you? And you have the right… all the rights in the world to do just that. But I couldn’t even when I should have.’</p><p>He glanced at Geralt and his eyes went soft before his look shifted to resolved. ‘Perhaps I’ve never given it a fair shot. Maybe I should try harder… It was the waiting and the hoping. That’s what got me,’ Jaskier added in hushed tones. ‘I’ll find someone to get rid of the other monsters, and somebody to fix the window. I’ll find a buyer and send you the papers.’ His eyes focused on the snowy path below his feet. ‘You can leave now. I can handle this.’</p><p>Geralt’s mind was starting to race. ‘But you…’ he started, voice sounding gruff. He cleared his throat and tried again. ‘You don’t want to sell it,’ was somehow all he managed to say.</p><p>Jaskier suppressed a sad laugh. ‘Oh, of course. Why would I not want to walk around this lake in my spare time, and stay in that lovely, old house, with all these empty rooms, all that space - way too much space for me - <em>and</em> brimming with happy memories o-of…’ He stopped because he was already holding on by a thread. ‘I bought this fucking house because I-I was counting my fucking chickens before they hatched. I let this get out of control. I let it c-consume me,’ he shuddered again, and shook his head. ‘It’s entirely likely that I will never stop wanting you to be here. But I will never do this again. This is it. I’ve spent more than enough time in this limbo. I-I’m done.’</p><p>Geralt had no response. He shook the snow out of his hair, trying to keep his hands busy as his guts began to rearrange themselves inside of him. Shockingly, his eyes started to burn, most likely from the cold.</p><p>The temperature was still falling, the older layers of snow already turning into ice.</p><p>‘Jaskier,’ he started again just as they approached the end of the path and saw the gate to the garden. ‘I had a lot of time to think-’</p><p>‘Don’t,’ Jaskier cut him off. ‘Just fucking don’t.’</p><p>‘I’m sorry,’ Geralt managed to force out.</p><p>Somehow that made Jaskier angrier, voice raised. ‘Well, your apology is never what I wanted. And I definitely don’t want your pity. I wanted you to be here. And if you can’t, then at least…’</p><p>‘What you said to her-’</p><p>‘Yeah,’ he interrupted again, ‘what I said to her,’ he snapped. ‘I’m not stupid. I understand.’ The sharpness in his voice made Geralt freeze in place.</p><p>Jaskier stopped too, and slowly took off Geralt’s jacket, shivering as he did, and then gave it back to him, hand shaking slightly. </p><p>‘Keep it.’ Geralt meant it as a statement but it sounded more like a request. It did nothing, and he was forced to take it, an assertive hand pushing it his way.</p><p>Jaskier gave him one last nod and walked up to the gate. After he went through, he closed it in a rush, catching the moment before he began to hesitate. The metallic sound of the latch falling in place was unnaturally loud. He looked at Geralt through the rails. His breath was erratic and the cold increasingly difficult to cope with, but he appeared determined.</p><p>Geralt came closer and stared at the metal bars between them. They were covered in frost, the iron barely visible, little white spikes forming around the surface.</p><p>Jaskier’s fingers wrapped themselves around one of the bars, melting some of the ice, water trickling down, then turning solid again. How he still had enough warmth in him to do that, Geralt did not know.</p><p>He hummed quietly, then nodded slowly, and brushed his knuckles against Jaskier’s freezing fingers, a quick movement one could easily miss, and yet it made Jaskier let out a half-suppressed whimper. His lips shook a little but he didn’t say a word, eyes wide, somehow bigger and bluer than Geralt remembered them.</p><p>Then Geralt nodded again, as if he was trying to convince himself of something and turned away to go.</p><p>Just as he took the first step, he heard Jaskier shuffling away, his feet dragging through the snow. And then he stopped, and Geralt’s ears instantly filled with the sound of his heartbeat going frantic. There was a sharp, shocked inhale, and then Jaskier’s breath stopped entirely.</p><p>Geralt swore to himself, hand on his sword before he even considered the options. He flicked the latch, and his own pulse sped up, every second turning precious once again. He ran up to Jaskier and finally saw what he was seeing. </p><p>There was a wyvern sitting in front of the garden doors, both sides flung open wide. Its wings were folded and yet it could still barely fit into the space. One of the headless roosters was trapped between its sharp teeth. It threw the bird into the air, the lifeless body limp and helpless, before the creature caught it in its strong jaws with a loud snap. A cracking sound of breaking bones made Jaskier’s skin crawl.</p><p>‘He’s fully grown, alright,’ Geralt whispered, just loud enough for Jaskier to hear. ‘Don’t try to get away, because he flies faster than I can run. We want to keep him on the ground.’</p><p>It was optimistic of Geralt to assume Jaskier would be able to move. ‘Ge-’ he managed, his whole body paralyzed with fear.</p><p>‘The barb in his tail is poisonous. Whatever happens, keep away from it.’ Geralt was perfectly still, eyes focused on the creature, pulse slowing down again as he focused. ‘At any cost,’ he added.</p><p>Just as he said it, the wyvern sniffed the air, and its yellow eyes narrowed and then focused on them. It slowly stepped out from the house and stretched its wings with a loud roar. The sound resonated through Jaskier’s chest, a painful vibration, which also took down the icicles attached to the roof. Seeing the full width of the wings made the creature’s body appear even bigger. The wings cut off the light coming from the bright windows behind it, engulfing the garden in darkness, then folded back again, as the outline of a heavy, lizard-like shape towered over them both.</p><p>Jaskier looked up, feeling like he was choking. He was short on air, his heart pumping so fast he was starting to become lightheaded. His stomach turned, and he felt sick, a slight burning in his throat. These were the longest seconds in his whole life, and they were filled with visions of the long, snake-like neck stretching out in his direction, the monster’s jaw, long and wide, opening to then tear his body apart with as much as a single bite. It felt like staring at a cinema screen, a huge image in front of his face, one which could not possibly be real. A cat-like eye, a bit like Geralt’s, and yet so empty and unfeeling, shone brightly in the dark and suddenly appeared so big, Jaskier felt like he could drown in it.</p><p>The long spikes on the monster’s body stood up proudly as it moved forward with a huff from its narrow, scaly nostrils.  </p><p>Geralt responded to that movement, as if it was a beginning to a dance, and stepped ahead, matching its rhythm, standing in front of Jaskier, separating him from the beast just as it flapped its wings again, then raised its head high, stretching itself to inflate its size even further, wings reaching well above the roof level, a low growl at the back of its throat, legs moving steadily, chest puffed, the whole body swaying in a threatening display of strength and agility.</p><p>Before launching himself at it, Geralt turned back for a split second, catching the last glimpse of Jaskier. His look was almost apologetic, and Jaskier’s heart sank as he realised that, perhaps, Geralt did not expect to survive this.</p><p>Jaskier opened his mouth, but nothing apart from a quiet gasp came out, as he saw the wyvern’s bulky head cut through the air in a sudden attack. </p><p>Geralt turned fast, sword flashing in the light, and the monster hissed, pulling back its head. The tips of its wings sank into the snow as it shifted its weight forward, teeth bared, and gave another blood-curdling roar. Jaskier felt his eyes water at the sound. He backed away slowly, leaving the space for Geralt and the beast, feet drowning in the snow, movements hesitant, and erratic but unbroken until his back hit the fence.</p><p>Jaskier didn’t move far and yet got wyvern’s interest. Its nostrils flared again. It crossed his mind that perhaps, the creature knew him by the smell, as familiar as it had become with his kitchen. The wings flapped faster and Geralt swore. Jaskier’s heart jumped into his throat at the sight of the creature raising in the air right in front of him.</p><p>‘Run to the house, fucking <em>run</em>,’ Geralt screamed, and Jaskier did as he was told for once, stumbling over his own feet, nearly falling into the snow, then regaining his balance again. The hidden puddles, covered in thick ice, made him slip, and the uneven surface was slowing him down.</p><p>The wyvern was fast and swift in the air but needed a few seconds to circle over the house, gaining speed to launch itself down with full force, claws outstretched and ready to sink into Jaskier’s flesh, the sound of its breathing and an occasional screech ominously resounding over his head. The garden door, so close and welcoming any other day, appeared remote, unachievable, frozen at what appeared as the exact same distance no matter how fast he ran.</p><p>Geralt stepped back, quickly evaluating the beast’s speed and movement, eyes following Jaskier’s desperate dash. He rushed towards the point where he believed the two would meet, and calmed his breath, hand steady on the sword. Just as the monster threw itself towards the ground, its heavy body racing ahead, Jaskier stumbled a few meters away from the door and fell, his panic so strong Geralt felt like he could taste it.</p><p>He stopped, balanced himself in place, and aimed his blade at the creature, then took a deep breath and threw it, screaming as he released the handle, muscles straining, his whole strength pushed into that single movement. Then he closed his eyes, waiting for the sound.</p><p>The beast wailed, and Geralt smiled, reaching for his silver sword. The blade sang, sound drowned by the desperate scream, so loud it made the glass in the windows shake in their frames, primal, yet almost human in the depth of suffering it conveyed.</p><p>The steel sword was buried deep into the wyvern’s side. The pain made it stop as it tried to suspend itself steadily in the air, giving Jaskier just enough time to lift himself up on his hands, and push ahead. The creature flapped its wings with a harrowing screech just meters above his head and lifted itself higher. The piercing ache enraged it more. An aggrieved roar filled their ears, as it got ready to circle again to regain its lost speed.</p><p>Jaskier reached the door, gasping for air. He grabbed one side, trying to close it, his hands shaking, lungs burning. ‘Shit, shit, <em>shit</em>,’ he swore to himself, pulling at the latch near the floor, which kept slipping out of his numb fingers, hands too cold to move with any precision.</p><p>It caught, and Jaskier sighed with relief just as he looked up to see the wyvern launching from above, another screech, loud and strong, wings outstretched, jaws open wide, teeth shining in the kitchen light as it threw itself on Geralt with a shattering force, bringing him down, the sword slipping from his hand as he hit against the ground. </p><p>‘<em>Geralt</em>,’ he screamed, as little sense or difference as that made, and moved back. The sight of the beast burying it claws into Geralt’s chest, wings fanatically flapping, was now framed by the door case.</p><p>Geralt managed to grab his steel sword still embedded in the wyvern, dancing with the movements of the creature's heavy chest, and pull it out. A streak of blood drew a thick line in the snow. It let out another mortifying roar, a hiss of pain hidden underneath, and its huge jaw snapped right in front of his face. He managed to cut it again, a quick slash at the base of its neck, his labored grunts and the beast’s high-pitched shrieks melding into one.</p><p>Jaskier realised that was it. The monster was going for the kill and Geralt’s sword work could only go so far with the heavy feet crushing him into the ground. The poisonous tail was slithering high in the air, ready to strike.</p><p>For a split second he considered closing the other door, but his hand hesitated as soon as he touched the handle, eyes watering.</p><p>He dropped down to the floor and grabbed one of the stones from the unfortunate circle. It was borderline impossible, but he forced himself to take a deep breath, lungs stiff and uncooperative. And then he stood up in the door and threw the rock at the beast.</p><p>A pair of piercing, yellow eyes found him instantly, a loud hiss, and then a sudden jump. It all happened too quickly. There was no time to close the door, barely a second before the scaly head pushed through it, and Jaskier felt a hot, burning breath on his face, his eyes gazing straight into the void of a blood-red mouth framed with razor-sharp teeth.</p><p>He grabbed the edge of the kitchen island behind him as if that could help somehow, hands squeezing so tightly they began to hurt. His whole body was shaking, and he felt like screaming but he couldn’t even take a breath.</p><p>The beast pulled back to gather some impetus, its nostrils sniffing with a loud huff, and then flung itself forward. Jaskier did manage to scream this time, a hopeless sound which made his own ears ring. He shut his eyes tight, turning away, shrinking into himself, mind ablaze.</p><p>But the next thing he felt was not huge teeth piercing through him. Instead, he heard a low hum of the sword and the harsh, grating sound of a blade cutting through flesh, a wet crunch of it grinding through the spine.</p><p>His eyes popped open and he saw the heavy, headless body swaying through its last spasms, still upright, a wave of blood shooting out of its neck, now turned into a wide gash, a creamy bone gaping underneath. A puddle formed on the tiles in a blink of an eye. The red splashed on the counter, the flour and the biscuits drowning in gore, crimson streaks hitting the row of mugs, and rolling down the walls.</p><p>The beast’s feet danced helplessly, until the carcass staggered one last time and fell forward. A hefty weight crashed towards Jaskier who managed to curl up in front off the counter, protecting himself against some of the impact. He remained motionless, in shock, warm, sticky liquid spilling all over his head and running down his face.        </p><p>He was not strong enough to get out, but he tried, regardless, pushing at the scale-covered mass, suffocating underneath, the taste of iron in his mouth. A wave of nausea came over him, then passed in his frantic fight for air. Geralt called out his name, voice strong, and the feeling of relief was so intense, it almost broke him. Then, finally, the weight lifted and Jaskier saw the light through his closed eyelids.</p><p>‘Shit, you’re a mess,’ Geralt started, his hands already helping Jaskier up. ‘You could have gotten yourself killed,’ he snapped, but there was no bite in his voice. He sounded fond, grateful, even, tension dissolving, his breathing turning easy again. Then he noticed Jaskier was trying to speak. ‘Stop… stop that. You’ve got...’ He gestured towards Jaskier’s blood-drenched face, not quite sure how to describe what he saw.</p><p>Jaskier’s hands were already blindly reaching for the bulky figure in front of him. He wrapped him in a hug, so thankful he was there. His treacherous mind was endlessly replaying the moment the monster pinned Geralt to the ground, the panic so fresh in his mind. One part of him was overjoyed, the other surprised Geralt would allow him get so close with no protest.</p><p>In fact, Geralt returned the embrace, white hair sticking to Jaskier’s dirty cheek. Only then he grunted with actual pain when the squeezing became too much.</p><p>Jaskier attempted to clean his lips with the back of his hand, but just made a bigger mess. ‘Are you ok?’ he managed to ask, pulling away. His fingers skimmed over Geralt’s chest, making him hiss a bit, then found their way under his shirt, searching for damage, feeling the deep cuts, slipping on blood. ‘Fuck,’ he gasped.</p><p>‘It’s fine,’ Geralt assured him through gritted teeth. ‘It was better when you weren’t pushing fingers into my wounds.’</p><p>‘S-sorry,’ he stuttered and backed out, unsure. ‘It’s just t-that I can’t see you.’ His hand reached towards his eyes but Geralt smacked it away. ‘Hey!’ he protested.</p><p>‘Don’t. You don’t want to rub it in.’ Geralt moved closer, and one of his hands ran up the back of Jaskier’s neck, the other attempted to sweep away the blood dripping down from his hair onto his forehead with a light touch to little success.</p><p>Jaskier froze, heart fluttering, and opened his mouth but not a single word came out.</p><p>Geralt ignored that, focused on the problem at hand. ‘Let me, just… let me. I’ll do it.’</p><p>He took Jaskier’s hand and dragged him towards the sink. They maneuvered amongst the mess of fallen chairs and broken dishes, feet slipping on wet tiles.</p><p>Geralt opened the cupboard with clean tea towels, happy he still remembered where they were. Then he lifted up one of the fallen chairs and helped Jaskier to get on it, casually situating himself between his legs.</p><p>‘Ehm…’ Jaskier started, appearing a bit overwhelmed, his breath already running short. ‘Are you…’</p><p>‘Come here.’ Geralt pulled him closer, then ran tepid water over the towel. ‘Fuck, you’re so cold,’ he noted, pushing his thumb under Jaskier’s chin to keep him still as he started to clean away the blood, the fabric pleasantly warm on his skin.</p><p>‘G-geralt,’ Jaskier stumbled on the name, not quite sure what he was trying to say.</p><p>He just grunted in response, focused, a low, satisfied, hum at the back of his throat. There was not a trace of his usual relentless efficiency. Every movement was slow and deliberate… soft, even. Gentle. He left the tap on, keeping the towel as warm and clean as possible, focusing on Jaskier’s eyes until he was able to open them again.</p><p>Jaskier blinked a few times, the image of Geralt above him becoming blurry than taking shape again. His white hair was still wet from sweat, and there was a smudge of red on his cheek. Both his shirt and jacket were covered in deep cuts and soaked in blood. Geralt ignored the blue eyes piercing through him and calmly smoothed a hand along Jaskier’s forehead, thumb trailing across a delicate cheekbone.   </p><p>‘What the fuck are you doing?’ Jaskier asked, swallowing hard and choking on the metallic taste again. This prompted Geralt to gently wipe the towel over the corner of his mouth, then his lips, the fingers of Geralt’s other hand leisurely crawling up Jaskier’s neck until they threaded through his hair.</p><p>‘Nothing,’ Geralt responded, as matter-of-factly as he could. There was a shadow of a smile on his face when he noticed the goosebumps forming on Jaskier’s skin, his heartbeat racing again. Then his eyes refocused, and he appeared distracted for a moment. ‘Fuck, it’s even in your ears,’ he added, brushing a few strands of hair away for better access, and removing one of the clots forming in his brown waves.</p><p>‘Nothing,’ Jaskier repeated breathlessly, eyes following Geralt’s movements.   </p><p>Geralt grunted in agreement while cleaning the blood from the inside of Jaskier’s ear, his breath hot on Jaskier’s cheek. The water dripped from the towel and ran down Jaskier’s neck, making him shiver.</p><p>‘Why would I start anything?’ Geralt asked, tone unusually playful. ‘As you explained to your vast audience, I’m not gay… or even bi.’</p><p>‘Not even,’ Jaskier confirmed, closing his eyes again, feeling Geralt’s hips pressing closer until the chair scraped against the floor.</p><p>‘I’m pursuing Yennefer,’ he said confidently, while leaving the towel on the counter, and turning off the tap.</p><p>‘Of course you are,’ Jaskier said, nodding vigorously. ‘Everybody knows that.’</p><p>‘This is not our house,’ he said as his hands wrapped themselves around Jaskier’s thighs, pulling him forward.</p><p>‘Obviously.’ Jaskier licked his lips, instantly regretting that, a bitter note on his tongue.</p><p>‘You’re just a pain in the arse.’ Geralt’s own voice was starting to betray him, a bit more breathy than before, and Jaskier smiled in response.</p><p>‘Always,’ he agreed eagerly, voice intensely hopeful.</p><p>‘I haven’t missed you at all,’ he insisted, placing his hands on both sides of Jaskier’s face, thumbs brushing against his lower lip, feeling him shake slightly. ‘You never crossed my mind.’</p><p>‘Not even once,’ Jaskier whispered with a soft gasp, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s neck.</p><p>Geralt leaned in, and brushed his lips against Jaskier’s, then pulled him into a kiss, their lips fitting together perfectly. Jaskier pressed his body hard against Geralt’s with a barely suppressed moan, hands running down the witcher’s back, nails digging in.</p><p>Geralt gently moved away. ‘And this never happened,’ he clarified, breath most definitely running short.</p><p>‘And never will,’ Jaskier confirmed, pulling him back in, gently biting Geralt’s upper lip, then moving in deeper, whole body trembling.</p><p>‘And even if it did, it wouldn’t mean anything,’ Geralt managed to say when Jaskier finally released him.</p><p>‘I wouldn’t dare to assume…’</p><p>‘I don’t love you,’ he said, making Jaskier chuckle, then break down instantly.</p><p>‘Good to know,’ he nodded, eyes watering, breath suddenly coming in wet, broken gasps.</p><p>‘Yes, I’d-I’d hate to give you the wrong impression.’ Geralt hesitated and then hugged Jaskier tightly, ignoring the piercing pain in his chest.</p><p>The adrenaline was most definitely wearing down, and the blood loss was suddenly making Geralt feel light-headed, his shirt wet, Jaskier sobbing in his arms. He felt a little overwhelmed, wyvern’s dead eyes staring at him from the kitchen floor.</p><p>‘It was horrible,’ Jaskier whispered in his ear, face wet from tears. ‘All of it.’</p><p>‘I know,’ he whispered back, his cheek pressed against Jaskier’s hair, blood smearing on his face. He rubbed Jaskier’s back for a while, his breath slowing down, then leaned away to grab the abandoned blanket from a nearby chair. He wrapped Jaskier in the thick, cosy fabric, giving him a squeeze, then embraced him again, hoping he’d warm up, even a little.</p><p>The winter air was still blowing through the open door but neither of them wanted to stand up to fix that.</p><p>‘Can you stay?’ Jaskier asked, finally, surprisingly shy.</p><p>Geralt hummed in confirmatory tones. ‘I’m not actually at work.’</p><p>‘You’re not?’ Jaskier was genuinely surprised.</p><p>‘No, I was at Vesemir’s Christmas party when you called,’ Geralt admitted with a light smile.</p><p>‘Oh…’ Jaskier pulled away and stared at him, eyes growing bigger for a moment. ‘That’s why he was pissed.’</p><p>Geralt grunted in agreement.</p><p>‘Shit, he’ll hate me forever.’ Jaskier sighed, nervously, and wiped the remaining tears away, his mind suddenly racing. ‘I got on his nerves quite a few times in the last few months.’ He looked a bit overwhelmed for a minute. ‘Jesus, in general… I’ve done some pretty extreme things.’</p><p>‘I know.’ Geralt nodded calmly. ‘I’ve seen some of it on YouTube.’</p><p>‘T-the drama on the jet to Hawaii?’</p><p>Geralt grunted and nodded slowly.</p><p>‘Even my London performance afterparty in May?’</p><p>‘Everyone saw that.’</p><p>‘True enough. To be honest I think the publicity from that was what got me the platinum.’</p><p>‘I wouldn’t be surprised.’</p><p>‘B-but I’m sorry about the-’</p><p>‘I didn’t like that armour anyway.’</p><p>‘Really?’ Jaskier seemed confused. ‘The whole premise was… Right, that’s fine. That’s better, actually.’</p><p>‘It’s fine. And you sold the story pretty well in that British Vogue interview.’</p><p>‘I had to say <em>something</em>.’</p><p>‘I wasn’t criticizing you. It was well done.’ Geralt hummed approvingly. ‘And the photos-’</p><p>‘Thank you,’ he smiled, blushed a little, and then his eyes turned slightly vacant. ‘Fuck, I slept with so many people. It was excessive… even by my standards.’</p><p>‘I know. I’ve been following your social media.’</p><p>‘You did?’ Jaskier failed to hide his excitement. ‘I was kind of hoping you would.’</p><p>‘Yeah, I could tell.’</p><p>‘So you probably did listen to my whole album.’ His eyes lit up and he chewed on his lower lip with excitement.</p><p>‘I got the signed... gold limited special edition.’ Geralt stumbled a bit on the name.</p><p>‘Of course you did…’ Jaskier whispered and sighed with real relief.</p><p>‘The personal note was a nice touch.’</p><p>‘Wait.’ Jaskier blinked a few times, trying to remember. ‘Did you use your real name with that order?’</p><p>‘I did.’</p><p>‘Fuck, well, I guess…’ His brain drew a blank. ‘I-I’m not actually the one who writes these things.’</p><p>‘I got that,’ Geralt grumbled, and frowned. ‘But I didn’t know you were at home the last couple of months.’</p><p>‘N-no, I kept that pretty quiet,’ Jaskier admitted shyly. ‘I was feeling down, so I kind of… W-wait,’ Jaskier said, eyebrows bunching as the realization hit him. ‘Did you try to contact me on my public accounts?’</p><p>‘I did. You blocked me on all the private ones. The phone number too.’</p><p>‘S-shit. <em>Shit.</em> I-I really have to have a word with Kirsty.’ Then he stared at Geralt, a little embarrassed and chuckled nervously. ‘I- ehm… Oh, fuck.’ He sighed, tilted his head, his eyes watered again, and then his lips crashed against Geralt’s, surprising him, an annoyed groan turning into a tender hum. ‘I’m sorry.’</p><p>‘It’s alright.’</p><p>‘No, it’s not. I’ve been so harsh… and rude. I never even asked what you did all this time.’</p><p>‘Not much…’ Geralt shrugged. ‘I just worked a lot, felt a little depressed, and really alone.’</p><p>‘Fuck. I-I would have gotten in touch. I just really didn’t think… I-I couldn’t believe you would… I mean, did you think it would be like this?’ Jaskier asked in dramatic tones, hands clinging to Geralt’s arms which were somehow still wrapped around him.</p><p>‘Like this?’ As Geralt looked around the ruined kitchen, a big blood clot dripped from the ceiling and hit the ground with a splash. </p><p>‘Y-yeah.’</p><p>‘No, I thought we could talk like two adults and go back to the fucking Christmas party.’</p><p>Jaskier suppressed a smile, and then stared at the red stain on Geralt’s chest as if he was surprised it was there. ‘Well, about that… We should probably stop by the hospital on the way.’</p><p> </p><p>THE END</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you like my writing please <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaire_Seton">subscribe to me</a> and take a look at my other fics. I have two more Geraskier works planned for now, one super long and already 60% done. </p><p>Also, follow me on <a href="https://twitter.com/BlaireSeton">Twitter</a> or <a href="http://oxbridge-quality-fanfiction-co.tumblr.com/">Tumblr</a> if you want to see what I'm up to.</p><p>Rita, apart from being the source of inspiration for this fanfic, also betaed it for me! She always does an amazing job which leaves me in awe. Please check out <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyRita1967/pseuds/LovelyRita1967">her amazing works</a> and give her the love she deserves ❤️ </p><p>Big thanks to Kelly and <a href="https://ohmybgosh.tumblr.com/">ohmybgosh</a> for their help.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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